Nathanial Morris
by Sister to the Dark Lord
Summary: Draco finds a letter in his Azkaban cell. What does it say, and what happens after he reads it?


Nathanial Morris

_A/N: Another fic about letters. Charles (my plot bunny) seems to like these. . . . ._

--

OK, _how_ did he wind up in here again?

Draco Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, elite of the Dark Lord's forces, sat on the bed – if you could call it a bed – of his high-security Azkaban cell. Staring out the bars of his cell door, he watched as the Dementors curiously examined the Manticores that guarded Draco side-by-side with them. Growing bored, one Dementor pressed it's shrouded face against the bars and sucked away the memory of Narcissa combing Draco's hair when he was six, telling him his favorite story about the Dark Lord. Draco scrabbled for it, but it slipped between his mental fingers. Draco sighed and lay down on the bed, shoving his right arm underneath the pillow like he always did.

The man's fingers idly rubbed the bed's frame. Suddenly, they detected a hitch in the metal. The magic that was used to manipulate metal didn't create hitches like this one, even if it was the first one the caster had ever done. Draco threw the pillow away and stared intently at the frame. A small lever had somehow been attached. On impulse – what did he have to lose? - Draco pulled. With a terrible grating sound, one of the flagstones lifted up. Tripping over himself in excitement, Draco scrambled off the bed and peered down into the hole. He could just barely see the outline of an envelope. Shaking with a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension, Draco reached down. Going up to his shoulder, Draco's fingertips where just able to brush and grasp the envelope. Pulling it up and slitting it open, Draco sat on the cold flagstones and started to read.

_Congratulations to whomever has found this letter. I have used intricate wandless magic to conceal it, and only someone who is in a similar predicament as I will have the ability to find it. I suppose I should start by telling you who I am, what I am doing in a Azkaban cell that is guarded by Manticores, and why I was put here in the first place._

_My name is Nathanial Morris, and I am one of Grindelwald's most faithful. It has been only months since the day my master fell at the hands of Dumbledore, may Merlin curse the wrenched man. All of us who supported Grindelwald were rounded up and sent to Azkaban, where we now await our turn before the Lethifold. They lock us in a cage with the gruesome beast, and the people in the crowd bet money on how long the prisoner will last. I will do my best to stay alive with my wandless magic, but such magic is draining, particularly a Patronus, which means that the effort will render myself unconscious in just over ten minutes._

_I hear the Dementors coming. It is my time. Goodbye, my unknown friend, and Godspeed to you._

_Nathanial Morris  
Friday, June 13th, 1945_

Draco blinked. He sounds like me, he thought. Well, I can't do wandless magic, but I must write another letter to join with this one.

"Excuse me," he told a Dementor. The Dementor turned and stared at the white-blond man. "Do you mind if I have a quill, ink, parchment, and envelope? I'd like to get my thoughts on paper before you preform the Kiss on me." The Dementor nodded his head once and drifted away. A few minutes later, the Dementor was back with the items Draco had requested. Opening the cell door, the Dementor set everything on the floor and looked expectantly at Draco. Draco had made a pact with the Dementors. If they would let him keep his sanity and give him small, reasonable things, he would give them a supply of his happiest thoughts and memories. Draco smiled and groped deep within his mind. He was running out of cheerful things. He finally pulled out a thought of his Death Eater wife, Pansy. He kept it on the top of his mind he walked toward the Dementor. The Dementor reached out eagerly and plucked it out of his mind. Rubbing it's stomach as if it had just finished a particularly delightful meal, it left Draco in peace. Draco picked up the parchment, quill, and ink, and began to write.

--

Draco looked at the parchment. He nodded in satisfaction as he read the final product. The letter he was going to seal into the floor with Nathanial Morris's said:

_To Whoever Finds This Letter,_

_If you haven't read the other letter, the one written by Nathanial, I suggest you do before continuing to read mine._

_So, you've read Nathanial? Good. I've got the same story as him, just one chapter behind. I was a follower of the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort, whatever you want to call him. He's the same person._

_Anyway, Potter killed him. Then the Aurors rounded up all the Death Eaters (Death Eaters are the Dark Lord's followers; I'm one of his elite), and now I'm in the same cell as Nathanial was. It's still guarded by Manticores, but I get to have the Dementor's Kiss preformed on me instead of having a Lethifold eat me. I can't do wandless magic, but I (somehow) got the Dementors to be nice to me. Nice Dementors! Ha! Can you believe it? I hardly can, and I'm in the thick of it! But for now, I need to go. Shacklebolt (the Minister) will be making his weekly round soon, and I can't let him read this, can I?_

_Draco Malfoy  
Monday, November 24th 1997_

Draco put the parchment in the envelope, dropped it and Nathanial Morris's letter into the hollow in the floor, and pushed the lever on the bed frame back to where it as before. The flagstone snuggled itself back into the floor. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and Draco heard Shacklebolt's voice. Draco stared at the ink, quill, and extra parchment lying in the middle of the floor. There was no way he could let Shacklebolt see them! The former Death Eater hastily picked them up and shoved them under the mattress. There. No one would notice one odd bump amid the millions already in the mattress. But still, just to be safe, Draco slid onto the bed and closed his eyes, as if he was deep in thought.

A rap outside the door. "Malfoy?" Shacklebolt's deep voice rang in Draco's ears. Draco opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the Minister.

"Yes?"

"Your sentence has been moved. The Kiss will be preformed on you in ten minutes. Any last requests?"

Draco froze. The Kiss in ten minutes? ". . . . .I. . . . .ah. . . . .what. . . . .um. . . . ." Draco mentally slapped himself in the face. "No chance of my last request being 'Let Me Keep My Soul And I Promise I'll Be A Good Little Boy', is there?"

Shacklebolt laughed, despite being surrounded by Dementors. "No, Malfoy, sorry. It'll be a pity to see you go. You may have been a Death Eater, but you have a wonderful sense of humor."

"Could I have the last ten minutes by myself? No Manticores, no Dementors, no Ministers, no one."

Shacklebolt nodded. "Seems fair enough." Shacklebolt herded the Manticores away from the cell door. The Dementors glided after him. Draco felt happier then he had in weeks. Feeling around the bed frame, Draco pulled up the lever again. The flagstone rose, and Draco retrieved the bottle of ink and quill from underneath the mattress, and, holding them tightly in his hand, lowered his arm into the hole. When his hand was just a few centimeters from the bottom, Draco let go. The bottle fell with a small clunk, but didn't break. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Next he dropped in the parchment. It floated to the bottom. Draco smiled and hit the switch, watching the flagstone settle into place. The next person might not have wandless magic or a pact with the Dementors.

--

Draco paced the perimeter of the cell. He wanted as many memories as he could get before he became an empty shell. Draco kept pacing until a pack of Aurors came to 'escort' him to the Wizengamot.

--

Draco looked around from his vantage point chained to the chair in the middle of the room. He didn't recognize anyone in Wizengamot uniforms, but there where several people dressed in Muggle clothing. There was the Mudblood Granger, Potter, and the Weasley jamboree. Draco counted. Bloody Merlin! All nine had come to watch the Kiss. Draco noticed the Weasley twins holding signs and waving them around. After a couple seconds, Draco was able to read what the signs said: Go Dementor Go in sparkling red letters. Draco sighed as Shacklebolt began to read Draco's sentence.

--

The Dementor had administered the Kiss. It had been cold, unimaginably cold, and then, light. Warmth. Happiness. All the happy memories and feelings Draco had given the Dementors came flooding back. Draco opened his eyes and saw he was standing on a road. A GOLDEN road. Up ahead, he saw a giant pearl. Walking forward, he found he was dressed in a white robe. Coming to the pearl, he saw his father waiting for him. Lucius had been killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. The man strode forward and hugged his son. "We are quite lucky," he informed Draco. "Your mother, you, and I were very nearly sent to Hell. A few people here in Heaven vouched for us, and we were sent here. But we have been standing here too long. Come inside."

The pearl turned out to be a gate, and inside, everyone was walking on golden streets, and visiting each other in mansions that were made of gemstones. Lucius took Draco to a mansion that, although spotless, was obviously empty.

"This is your house for eternity. We have some people you need to thank inside." Draco walked in and was greeted by Remus Lupin, Tonks Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Mad-Eye Moody, several Mudbloods that he had killed, and Fred Weasley. Everyone was in their twenties.

--

After five minutes, Draco was starting to get along with everyone when the door burst open to reveal a beautiful woman with fiery red hair – Draco had almost mistaken it for real flames – and startling green eyes. Draco knew her right away. This was his sworn enemy's mother. This was Lily Potter.

Lucius got up from his place on the couch and hugged the woman. "Lily," he greeted her warmly. "Come in, come in. Draco just got here a few minutes ago. Of course, you know about Draco, don't you?"

Lily laughed. "Of course I know the boy I played guardian angel to, Lucius!"

Draco's jaw hit the floor. Lily_ Potter?! _His_ guardian angel?!_ It was absurd, ridiculous! "Pardon?" he managed. Lily and Lucius turned to him simultaneously. Lily sighed and promptly occupied the space on the couch where Lucius had been mere seconds before. She looked at Draco.

"This is gonna take awhile."

--

"When I first came here, the Master Angel came to me and told me that there was a boy, the same age as my son, who needed a guardian angel. He took me to the house and showed me the most adorable little boy. I guarded him for a few days, but the Master Angel told me that I wasn't 'connecting' correctly with the boy and took me off to Malfoy Manor. There, I saw you, and I guarded over you. That was when you first saw me. Do you remember Elizabeth, your imaginary friend?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah..."

Lily smiled. "That was me. The next day the Master Angel told me that it was you that I had to watch over. I made sure that you got that scar on your arm," she told him, tracing a finger lightly over a large, white scar on his left bicep. "It was me who made you turn sideways instead of jump out of the way when Greyback attacked you for taking his spot in Voldemort's elite. I wanted you to have a reminder of the consequences rash decisions could have. I held out your hand for Harry to shake on the Hogwarts Express, and I guided your foot when you broke Harry's nose in sixth year. I took care to make you wait in the Room of Requirement and duel the ones dubbed 'The Golden Trio' during the Battle of Hogwarts. And I made sure that the Aurors caught you, so you could see your parents again." She cocked her head, making red hair fly. "And meet me," she added as an afterthought.

Draco smiled at Lily. "Well," he told her, "I'm glad you did."

--

_A/N: Ending it there, because Writer's Block refuses to let me write more. But five pages isn't bad, I suppose. Please review, but flames will be used to light the kerosene lamps downstairs_


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